


I Didn’t Dodge All Your Bullets Just Denied That They Hit Me

by gilscout



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Dissociation, Gen, Human squip, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Panic Attacks, implied past jeremy/squip, mayb?, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 12:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13123776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilscout/pseuds/gilscout
Summary: I wanna believe that I really don’t need him.





	I Didn’t Dodge All Your Bullets Just Denied That They Hit Me

**Author's Note:**

> shitty vent fic i wrote at three am on my phone   
> title taken from “my heart goes bum bum bum” by flatsound   
> description from “you wrote ‘don’t forget’ on your arm” by flatsound

White. That's what he sees, feels, hears. It surrounds him, and he’s screaming. He knows he is, but it’s far away, like it’s not really him doing it. 

He comes back to himself, just for a moment, to see cold blue eyes and a colder smile and suddenly everything is white again. 

He wakes up in a cold sweat, scream dying on his lips, and tears drying on his cheeks. 

Call, he thinks. It’s his only thought. He calls. 

“Jere, whats up?” Comes a raspy voice on the other line, and he doesn’t know what to say. A broken sob wrenches itself from his lungs, and then he’s crying again. 

“Jere, what’s wrong? Are you okay? What do you need?” The anxiety in the voice raises with every word, until it sounds panicked and frantic. 

Finally, he manages words. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he continues like a mantra, unsure how else to express himself. 

“I’m coming over,” the voice responds, but the line doesn’t die. 

“Dying,” he chokes out, and he hears the shuffling on the other line stop. 

“What?” 

“I feel like I’m dying,” he explains, and then he hears a car start. 

“Just hold on buddy, I’ll be there soon, okay? Try to drink some water. Can you do that for me?” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again. 

There is silence for a few minutes, and then he hears a knock on his window. He opens it. 

“Dude, what happened?” Michael asks when he’s climbed inside. He looks his friend over, fighting back angry tears at the sight. 

Jeremy is a mess. He has tear stains on his flushed cheeks. His eyes are red and puffy and dull. His lips are chapped and peeling where he continues to bite them. He trembling like a leaf in the wind. Michael reaches out slowly, and Jeremy flinches away from him. 

“Hey, it’s just me. It’s Michael. What happened?” 

There is a long moment of silence. 

“He…” Jeremy trails off, and Michael tenses. He doesn’t speak though. 

“I had a dream about him,” Jeremy finally chokes out, and Michael’s eyes soften, even though he wants to bristle at the words. He needs to keep his body language soft right neo. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Michael asks, and Jeremy shakes his head slowly. 

“I don’t feel real,” he says slowly, “My chest aches, and I feel like I’m dying. It feels like he’s here, like he’s going to say something any second, or he’s going to hit me, or touch me, or…” Jeremy doesn’t finish his sentence, but Michael knows what he means. 

“I’m sorry Jere,” he whispers, sitting down gently a few inches away from Jeremy, making sure they aren’t touching. 

They sit in silence for a long while. Eventually, Michael thinks Jeremy has fallen back asleep, when he speaks up. 

“I messed up,” he mutters, not even meaning for Michael to hear it. 

“Hey, no, you didn’t. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault.” 

Jeremy closes his eyes for a long while, before exhaling heavily and looking at Michael for the first time that night. 

“It wasn’t my fault.” He doesn’t sound entirely sure of himself, but he sounds like he’s starting to believe it. “It wasn’t my fault.”


End file.
